


Tick Tock

by Kiwi25



Category: Southland
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-06
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwi25/pseuds/Kiwi25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no denying that the incesant whine of Lydia Adams' biological clock is threatening to drive her insane. Is she ready to accept the love that comes along with the responsibility of a new baby. Written for the spring baby - fic challenge @ valent chamber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Diagnosis

The clock was ticking.

 

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 

Detective Lydia Adams didn’t know when she became aware of the incessant noise. It haunted her in the dead of night and the early hours of the morning. It was with her in the shower and when she smiled sweetly for the barista who added an extra splash of caramel to her latte.

 

She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it began.

 

Was it at Moretta’s funeral when they tossed the shovel of dirt on top of the casket as his wife clutched their youngest child tightly to her chest?

 

Maybe it was the first time she ran into Sammy, Moretta’s partner, with his son Nate.

 

It was mid – April and she remembered somewhere her mother or grandmother speaking against the ill – advised practice of bringing a newborn out before the last frost of winter. She’d been mesmerized by the baby and his constant fight to shove his fist in his mouth. Even more impressive were the changes she’d noticed in Officer Sammy Bryant. His shoulders were relaxed; his chest rose and fell with added pride, the man seemed happy. They had said their goodbyes and Lydia returned her attention to the three miles left on her morning run.

 

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

The sound had grown more persistent that morning as her feet pounded the earth beneath her. The syncopated rhythm drowned out the melodic scales Ella’s voice climbed in the buds blocking the sounds of the outside world from Lydia’s ears. She was thinking and that was deadly.

 

Enid Adams had done it.

 

Lydia’s mother had fallen in love and started a family while maintaining the career she enjoyed. She had raised her daughter to aggressively pursue life. Detective Adams had known success in high school, college, and now in the neighborhoods she worked to protect daily. Why couldn’t she offer the same values to a family…a baby of her very own?

 

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 

 

Lydia stopped, continuing to run in place as her thoughts played on and the wheels began to turn. She’d thought about it once or twice; when her idea of the perfect man graced her sheets. She wanted it, just like any other woman - the quintessential relationship and evidence of their love. The band that represented their commitment to one another and the expansion of her belly that promised new life and a future that couldn’t be denied.

 

She’d cried the first day of her last cycle.

 

The tears had flowed not from relief that God had decided to spare his wrath and see fit that no little Ochoas had formed in her womb. She sobbed because, _again_ , her desires had been denied. She knew if she asked, mentioned, or even hypothetically discussed the possibility of a child Rodrigo, the man would run out buy a ring and proclaim his intentions to half of the LAPD to see. That’s the type of man he was. Josie had raised him right, but she wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted.

 

The baby – yes…

 

The man…

 

Rodrigo wasn’t built to only produce a child and not honor his obligation.  She couldn’t ask him to do that. His standards were obvious the day met. She saw them immediately in his persistence to share a cup of coffee or force feed half a bag of chips while they stood vigil outside of his mother’s hospital room. He was a keeper; a man who deserved a woman who wanted his love and protection.

 

Could Lydia be that woman?

 

She stretched delighting in the burn traveling from top to bottom. Her thoughts were clearer, however unanswered questions lingered.

 

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

The sound grew fainter, dying a little more with each new day. Two months had passed since her near break down on her morning run. While her wants had yet to diminish, other things occupied her mind.

 

Rodrigo had laid claim to her heart. When Lydia tried to push him away he only gave her space for the anger to dissipate before he returned and held her in a way that spoke volumes about the depth of the feelings between them. Josie had threatened her life and ensured bodily harm if she broke the heart of her favorite son, only to follow her menacing words with, “You’ll be good for him. He’ll take care of you.”

 

The couple scoured the classifieds and visited condos on the weekends. Lydia’s mother’s joyous sounds with her live in love became too much for either armed officer to stand.

 

The third month arrived with the movers who carted her furniture out of the home that once belonged to mother and daughter. Lamps and boxes of books shared a testament about the changes that had occurred over a short span of the time and the peace that comes with accepting love and releasing fear.

 

Lydia watched as Rodrigo supervised the men and directed them on what stacks to grab next. She loved the sound of his voice and enjoyed the roll of his tongue in more ways than the one. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered and for a minute, Detective Adams felt like a lovesick teenager watching her boyfriend on the basketball court.

 

She walked back to the house determined to help instead of being relegated to the sidelines to watch. Her head swam and she cursed herself for not eating earlier. She wiped the thin sheen of sweet from her brow. Lydia eased her unsteady frame down on the top step and took a deep breath.

 

Men carrying furniture and more boxes buzzed around her and she became increasingly aware of the building nausea that would soon force her to bow at the porcelain throne. She stood to attempt a dash for the stairs and the bathroom that waited there. Instead she found herself tumbling backwards into the arms of her concerned boyfriend.

 

She ignored his incoherent babblings as they waited for the doctor to enter the exam room.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

Lydia relayed through clenched teeth only to be met with Rodrigo’s exasperated and incoherent reply.

 

“No seas tonto.”

 

She was tempted to send her lover home, back to the boxes and furniture that needed to be arranged. Her vitals were fine and then the interrogation began.

 

“When was your last cycle Ms. Adams?”

 

Her eyes fell on the man that shared her bed as she sought direction. Counting back weeks that turned into a month, then two, and finally…

 

“Shit.”

 

His eyes stretched and her heart began to beat.

 

Three months had flown by and now there were six left to go.

 

A new clock began.

 

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 _Tick…_

 _Tock…_

 

 


	2. Decisions...Decisions...

 

Lydia walked back into the precinct eyes red and her stomach in knots.

 

A baby…

 

She had practically given up on the concept of becoming a mother. After the heart breaks and fuck ups scattered throughout her years, maybe her fate was to take down assailants, solve cases, and scope out new sex shops for her mother. Then Lydia met Rodrigo and she felt like it was okay to daydream, consider, and even plan for a future. Especially after the fallout with Russell and the way a few of the officers still looked at her. He was a welcome relief, a safe haven, but she still worried and she knew that wouldn’t change anytime soon.

 

Detective Adams eased into the seat at the desk next to her partner Josie; careful to avoid the woman’s scornful eye. They were on speaking terms again and not the kind that revolved around insults in another language. They had an understanding. However, Lydia knew that the moment she screwed up, feigned friendship would fly out the window and she’d have Josie’s wrath coming down on her in flames.

 

“I was beginning to worry about you.”

 

Josie’s eyes never left the screen as she spoke.

 

Lydia opened her mouth to respond only to be interrupted.

 

“Please spare me the details; I’m not ready for the blow by blow.”

 

A strained laugh fell from Lydia’s lips as Rodrigo’s words played on a continuous loop in her head.  They would tell both of their mother’s together; on neutral ground in a place where there were no sharp objects or breakable glass. Then he’d slipped in the part about marriage and more babies and she groaned again like she was back in the parking lot of the doctor’s office reliving their intense conversation from that morning. She knew this would happen; he was all chivalry and no sense. Of course they had discussed moving things along in their relationship, but right now it worked. She didn’t need a ring or a name change to know she meant something to him. She could also do without being called a molester in front of her colleagues by his mother.

 

Her cell buzzed and she read the text before pointing the device in the direction of her partner, “Looks like we’ve got a _261A,_ over at Bishop on West Pico.”

 

Lydia hesitated to move from her seat as the wave of nausea rushed over her. She became aware of the thin sheen of sweat that covered her, the constant flipping sensation in her stomach, and the heat of the building compounded by the heaviness of her suit. Her pants were also too tight, she was definitely on her way out of the size four she’d cherished for years.

 

“Get your ass in,” Josie’s words evaporated as concern passed over her face, “Mija…you okay.”

 

She nodded in response, forcing her body to cooperate with her mind as she dug through her drawer for a bottle of water. Had Josie just referred to her using a term of endearment?

 

“I told you those fancy frappes, lattes, whatever you call that shit would catch up with you.”

 

Lydia offered up another laugh before surrendering the keys to the car and falling in line behind her partner.

 

 **~`~**

Detective Lydia Adams had never been overly emotional. Okay minus the outburst where she nearly took off Dewey’s head, the one time she called Fernandez a bitch, and then there was Russ.  She was emotional; however she attempted to function in spite of the potential to be controlled by her personal feelings. She could be empathetic to victims and even offenders when necessary. However, when it came to solving a crime, where one forgotten detail or overlooked fact could change the course of an investigation, she had learned to erase feelings from the equation and just do her damn job. Yet this afternoon, there was something about the girl in the burgundy sweater with mascara running down her cheeks that pulled at the strings of her heart. She was on her fourth Kleenex when she knelt before the fifteen year old and urged her to share the identity of her attacker.

 

By the time they had a name, description, and home address, she was nearly sobbing. She could feel the weight of Ochoa’s gaze, but she continued on; opting to drive and focus on the questions they would ask upon arrival. Of course nothing went according to plan, especially when you’re dealing with a frightened sixteen year old boy facing adult charges and jail time. He ran and the logical explanation was for Lydia to follow on foot. After all, she was the former track and cross – country all star. She could hear the blaring sirens of the sedan as it trailed behind them; she knew her partner had called for patrol cars to back them up. She used that as comfort as her feet pounded the pavement and she fought to catch up with the kid who was gliding across air.

 

Two weeks ago she was running a 5K and today she was a thirty – six year old woman at the end of the first trimester of a high risk pregnancy. The whole running pursuit was not a good idea. She stretched her limbs and found her stride, eventually edging out the suspect and cutting him off before he could scale a chain link fence. He tumbled into her at top speed and the sickening crack her head made when it hit the sidewalk caused bile to rise to back of her throat. It had been ages since she tasted fear, not since the night she gripped the shotgun tightly and fired off rounds into the darkness. Adrenaline kicked in and she popped up, swallowed the taste in her mouth, and slapped cuffs on the kid who was now crying about how much the girl wanted it and he didn’t anything she hadn’t asked for.

 

Lydia didn’t know if it was suspect’s words or the superficial injuries she’d sustained that added to the increasing wooziness she felt. She raised her head only to see Bryant and Sherman rushing towards her. Sammy lifted her from the ground, while Ben escorted the assailant to the car.

 

“You okay detective?”

 

His words were professional but the way one arm wrapped her waist and tucked her against his body, gave a clue to the easy friendship that had formed between them. Her knees knocked and her body shook.

 

“No,” Her voice cracked and fresh tears sprung to her eyes, “Can you take me to the hospital?”

 

 **~`~**

Lydia had asked Sammy hoping to avoid to the spectacle that came with an on site evaluation by EMS. They two snuck away as Sherman kept Josie with questions and procedures. At first they rode in silence and then she began with the polite empty conversational gestures. She asked about Tammi and baby Nate. She dug deeper looking for an answer as to why Sammy returned to patrol, even after finally getting his revenge against Leprechaun. He was a great officer, but an even better detective. His answers were short and terse.

 

“What’s really going on Adams?”

 

Her hand drifted to her belly.

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

She needed to tell someone. Share her news with someone other than Rodrigo. Another person could tell her if she was insane to possibly consider continuing with this career and bringing a child into the world.

 

A glaring expletive pierced the air, “You’re on foot patrol, chasing down assholes, and you’re pregnant.”

 

She hadn’t expected sympathy, empathy, or any form of understanding.

 

“I just found out.”

 

The engine roared as Sammy pressed the gas and sped down the road in silence.

 

One ultrasound and a few blood panels later, Lydia and the baby were given a clean bill of health. The doctor scribbled down the name of an OB-GYN with experience in dealing with high risk pregnancies while trying to keep her patients on their standard routine. However he did not let her leave the exam room without a warning.

 

“This is not just about you detective, talk to your supervisor, make some better decisions about the cases you work, or I will see you here again.”


	3. D-Day

Lydia Adams was waiting for the fun of pregnancy to begin.

 

Increased cup size, swollen feet, and now the need for elastic only pants filled her days. Yes she had the clear, smooth skin that accompanied most women during their pregnancies. Her blood pressure had remained low. She was still on full duty with an option to pick and choose her cases. Much to her disbelief she had a partner that supported every decision she made.

 

Rodrigo had been furious when he found out about her surprise trip to the emergency room. He’d pulled the chauvinistic act and demanded that she go on leave immediately and they’d discuss her future at the department once their baby was born. Needless to say after an emotional display of her own, that included black trash bags filled with his clothes on their lawn, the two came to an agreement. They were both scared; not only for the future, but for life growing in her belly.

 

“We need to tell them.”

 

He had been surprised by her pronouncement. At one time, Lydia was content to carry their child for the remainder of her pregnancy, concealing her increased size with baggy clothing and well placed objects to hide her weight gain. Their mothers’ first introduction to the concept of becoming a grandparent would occur in the waiting room shortly after she delivered. Fate intervened and forced them to act like adults.

 

They shared their news with their mothers over dinner. There were no curses but an overwhelming amount of tears. Josie had embraced Lydia, welcoming her to the family, cooing loving phrases to her abdomen. When the subject of work was raised by Enid Adams, it was the elder Ochoa who stood up for Lydia.

 

“I worked through all my pregnancies.” She swirled the wine in her glass, “L is tough, she’ll be fine, the baby will be fine.”

 

Two months had passed since that meeting and not much had changed. There were still two schools of thought but Rodrigo and Enid didn’t stand a chance against Josie and Lydia.

 

She stood in the bathroom staring at her profile in the mirror. Her hands fell to the swell beneath her breasts. She felt the faintest kick and smiled. Then she thought about the lack of clothing in the closet and she wanted to scream. Gone were the slimming tanks and closely cropped blazers. They’d been replaced with flared button down shirts and wide legged pants that didn’t have a zipper; she pulled them up and on.

 

Lydia did not feel sexy at all. In fact she felt like a hippopotamus in need of a good shit.

 

“Come back to bed.”

 

Rodrigo’s lips caressed her ear as his arms circled what was left of her waist, before his hands snaked their way underneath the t-shirt she wore. His fingers tweaked her nipples and a familiar heat pooled between her thighs. He gripped her hips and directed her to the edge of the sink.

 

“No.”

 

She murmured even as he dipped between the cotton and skin and found evidence of her yes.

 

She took a deep breath, calming her racing pulse, “I can’t…court this morning.”

 

He was persistent, trailing the shell of her ear with his tongue, “We can hold our own session in the shower.”

 

Somewhere between no and stop she found her back pressed against the cool tile while the water pulsated from the shower’s head and her man’s hands pressed her legs further apart. This is how she ended up in this predicament, six months pregnant, unmarried, and climaxing for the third time in fifteen minutes.

 

Lydia’s eyes rolled back in her head as he gently kneaded her sensitive breast. Teasing touches brought her to the cusp of the fourth peak of pleasure before he brought her down from the ledge. He filled her with one thrust, lifting her legs to rest around his waist, and settled into a groove.

 

“I love you.”

 

She smiled in response to his words; kissing his lips lightly. He never took no for an answer, she respected and loved that about him. Her fingers smoothed the wild hairs of eyebrows, traced his lashes, and drifted across the fullness of his bottom lip. He nipped at the digits, drawing a finger into his mouth, loving it with his tongue, as he stroked her most intimate spots.

 

“Marry me.”

 

The throes of passion always produced surprising results. She ignored his request and lost herself in the budding eruption she anticipated.

 

“Marry me Lydia; I want you to be my wife.”

 

He left her speechless and trembling not only from the orgasm that peeled through her body but the words he’d spoken.

 

 **~`~**

Lydia’s mind was blown.

She tried to concentrate on the questions posed by the prosecution and the defense, however, each and every time her mind drifted back to Rodrigo’s simple plea. She wanted to marry him in time; she also wanted to share the last name of their child and his or her father.

 

“Did Rodrigo ask?”

 

Josie’s inquiry pulled Lydia from her thoughts as they meandered their way to the row where the sedan was parked.

 

She nodded.

 

“Still thinking?”

 

She nodded again and the older woman reached for her hand.

 

“I know I gave you shit at first, but I would be fucking honored to have you as my daughter.”

 

The words shocked her and forced the tears from her eyes.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Josie’s favorite curse sent her emotions on a roller coaster ride and Lydia went from sobbing to laughing in zero to twenty.

 

“Don’t look now but here comes your impotent ex – partner.”

 

Her name broke across the horizon and she waited for him to catch up to where she stood. His eyes were bright and his face flushed from the exertion. He gripped the knee on his busted leg and rocked back and forth trying to dull the pain she knew he felt.

 

“Hey.”

 

Russell's voice was airy and hopeful and she just wanted to smack him. He looked down at her stomach and back up to her face.

 

“Congratulations.”

 

Her patience evaporated, “What do you want?”

 

His mouth opened but no words followed. She turned to follow the path her current had already blazed. He stilled her movements with a hand that circled her wrist and held her in place.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

In her mind she knew he was sincere but the words were too little too late. At one point and time she had loved this man beyond the point of friendship and he’d betrayed her.

 

“You almost ruined my career…my life…sorry is not good enough Russell.”

 

She pulled her wrist from his grip.

 

“I hope one day you can forgive me.”

 

She caught a glimpse of the shame and torment that resided in his eyes. He broke her gaze and focused on the ground.

 

“I forgave you a long time ago, maybe one day you can forgive yourself.”

 

Lydia walked off with closure and confident of the next step she would take in her life.

 

Her answer would be yes.


	4. Destiny

"I do...I do..."

 

The words rushed from Lydia Adam's lips before she had a chance to reconsider. Rodrigo's hands tightened around hers and the muffled laughter of their family, friends, and colleagues looked on from chairs adorned in ribbons and bows. The rest of the official ceremony was a blur. The prayers, candle lighting, and the trip down the makeshift aisle as husband and wife.

 

The happy couple had purposely kept the affair small.

 

The Ochoa and Morales' clans alone were enough to warrant renting out at least two floors of a large hotel but they'd managed to keep it to immediate family and fellow officers who also held the title friend. That didn't explain Officer Dewey Dudek's presence, but today she didn't care.

 

Lydia was huge; her belly erased the distance between her body and Rodrigo's. He still looked at her the same way he had the day they met. He still told her she was beautiful. He even had the unmitigated gall to plan for a second child after their first was born. And she loved him for it all. He was her rock...her destiny...it was sappy and completely unlike her but true. Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes when they entered the reception. She smiled graciously when she felt like breaking out in a hundred meter dash.

 

Nothing, absolutely nothing could shake the sincere happiness she felt.

 

She willingly waddled to the dance floor when the notes of their first song began. Ben Harper's husky voice floated through the speakers and she lost herself in the truth behind the lyrics. By the time the guitar heavy bridge carried them to the tune's end, the floor was covered with couples and she couldn't stop indulging in her husband's lips.

 

That word...

 

The knowledge...

 

The concept...

 

Gave her a sense of overwhelming peace, the clock had finally stopped ticking.

 

The wedding fiesta was filled with food; empanadas, tostadas, and her grandmother's famous apple cobbler recipe. She leaned back and placed her feet in her husband's lap. A beer would have been good but she enjoyed the sparkling cider in her glass.

 

"Long way from the vending machine."

 

Lydia laughed at his impromptu trip down memory lane, "Or the range," She threw her two cents in for good measure.

 

He shifted her feet to the chair and gripped the dessert plate in his hand, "What do you want next?"

 

Her eyes traipsed over the spread at the table below the podium, "Flan."

 

"There are at least six types of flans, which one Lydia."

 

She smiled, "All of them."

 

"Greedy," He kissed the top of her head and walked off to fill her request.

 

Lydia had little time to herself as a miniature Bryant climbed into her lap and curled against her stomach. He had a mop of curly hair like his daddy and bright eyes like his mommy. His spirit was fearless like his namesake and she couldn't help but wonder what features and attributes the babe in her womb would inherit.

 

Tiny hands rubbed her belly before he bent his head and listened, "Baby."

 

"Yes, baby."

 

He moved his ear back to her belly button and she took the moment to sneak a nap.

 

"It's a girl."

 

She raised her head to meet Josie's amused eyes. She had heard the tale for years about determining the sex of an unborn child. Until now, they had avoided knowing what they were having, opting for an array of pastels in the nursery, that they would play up with one primary color after the day of delivery.

 

"I wish whatever it was would just come out already."

 

Josie pulled a chair next to Lydia. The woman's accent was heavier thanks to the rounds she'd enjoyed at the open bar.

 

"Did I ever tell you, Rodrigo, kept me in labor for almost twenty - four hours?"

 

Absently, Lydia stroked young Nate's head, unaware that his eavesdropping session had turned into afternoon naptime for the toddler.

 

"Stop trying to scare me."

 

"Seriously, twenty four hours of hardcore labor, two pushes, and he was here."

 

Mother found her son in the crowd.

 

"I'm proud of him for the life he's built...the choices he made..." She could the emotion in the older woman's voice, "Thank you for loving him."

 

Lydia needed to have this baby or shoot a gun immediately because she was turning into a big softie.

 

She stuffed her face with flan, supervised the organization of their gifts, and collapsed on the queen sized bed of their suite hours later. She didn't have to ask for him to remove her shoes or massage her feet. She didn't fight when his kisses turned into teasing. They had to consummate the marriage.

 

Her bladder filled around round one and during round two the new case of gas became too much to bear.

 

Rodrigo rubbed the small of her back but no relief came. She propped her belly up on pillows and that hurt more. She stood and pressed her back against the wall and nothing but a gush of water covering her feet resulted.

 

"Rodrigo," Her voice was semi - frantic, "I think my water just broke."

 

There was no time to concentrate on her breathing. Lydia had gone into labor on her wedding night. She delved out orders, who to call, the quickest route to the hospital, "Drugs...I need lots of drugs...I can't do this natural."

 

He laughed at her.  A boyish grin remained on his face and she knew what was on his mind.

 

She punched him in the arm.

 

"This is all your fault, mister, let me get a little bit deeper."

 

She punched him again before the first pang of labor hit. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't scream, she could only grip the handle of the door. The car moved faster and she bit her tongue.

 

He barely parked the car in the emergency space. The door opened and he scooped her up into his arms. He tried to run but she was heavy and he was still skinny in spite of his junk food eating habits. Somehow they made it through admissions. Their mother's arrived when they moved her into a private birthing room, and by the time her legs were up in the stirrups she was numb from the waist down and ready to push.

 

Lydia had endured a rocky road on her journey to the new stage of her life. She wouldn't trade the heartbreaks or disappointments. Every laugh and teardrop shed had prepared her for duty. She closed her eyes, gripped her husband's hand, and pushed her chin to her chest.

 

At one minute past three in the morning, Sofia Aniceta Morales was born.


End file.
